


Envy and Loathing in the Zombie Apocalypse

by prophecysparks



Series: Sex and Loathing in the Zombie Apocalypse [2]
Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Bisexual Character, Complicated Relationships, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Jealous sex, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Spoilers, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, jealous murphy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prophecysparks/pseuds/prophecysparks
Summary: After your mutual realization of feelings, you and Murphy finally establish a relationship. Things go smoothly until after the Black Rain, and the two of you break things off. Upon finally finding "Newmerica", you meet George St. Claire, who you have an instant connection with. Later, when the group arrives at Limbo, Murphy notices you and George sharing a moment and steps in. Filthy, jealous smut ensues.
Relationships: George St. Claire/Reader, Murphy (Z Nation)/Reader
Series: Sex and Loathing in the Zombie Apocalypse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895746
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Envy and Loathing in the Zombie Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up for "Fear and Loathing in the Zombie Apocalypse"
> 
> *I love Murphy, but I've got it pretty bad for George too, so here we are.
> 
> *This was gonna be a one chapter kind of deal, but I got carried away. Hope you enjoy!

Finally, after all the time it had taken and the lives lost to get you all there, you had made it to "Newmerica". The others in your group were thrilled to have finally made it to Altura, excited to find some meaning to life aside from simply surviving. You, on the other hand, had your reservations. Perhaps it was how _clean_ the place was. After years of trudging through the filth of the apocalypse, there was something unsettling about the gleaming surfaces and freshly trimmed grass. It all felt.. unnatural. At least the discovery of Talkers gave you a sense of familiarity, you supposed. The apocalypse throwing curve balls was something you had certainly grown used to over time. 

Honestly, the place unnerved you to the point that when everything went to shit, like everything inevitably did, you weren't really even surprised. Now in the loud, smoky atmosphere of Limbo, you felt comforted. The place was gritty, and a little trashy, you thought. It screamed apocalypse. Finding Murphy living it up only made sense. Were you disappointed? Yes. Hurt? Most definitely, not that you would admit it out loud. 

\------

You didn't know what you actually expected the day he professed his feelings for you, when he told you he wanted more than just angry hate sex. 

Things had been awkward for a while, neither one of you sure how to navigate the possibility of a relationship. Eventually, though, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, and you had foolishly began to believe Murphy felt the same as you. 

He had certainly been convincing, that was for sure. Hand holding and lingering kisses.. Him telling you how beautiful you were as the two of you spooned in the backseat of whatever vehicle you slept in at the time, or in a makeshift tent under the stars when you traveled by foot. When the two of you giggled and hushed one another so the others wouldn't hear as you snuck quickies in whenever you got the chance. It wasn't until after the Black Rain that Murphy really started pulling away. 

The signs had been subtle at first. He grew quieter when the two of you were alone, had began staying to himself more often. At first you had assured yourself it wasn't anything that threatened your relationship, that the Black Rain had put a toll on all of you, especially him, especially after the loss of Lucy. His newly red hued skin was a shock to everyone, but you felt the same for him regardless... even if he _did_ look like Satan. 

It was when Murphy decided to break away from the group to search for Warren that you could no longer make excuses for his shifty behavior. By that point, he was avoiding you as much as traveling in a small group would allow. "I'll go with you," you had told him. "You shouldn't go alone."

"No, no, no. You go with the others," Murphy said all too quickly. "You'll be safer that way... is what I mean." 

It his nervous chuckle that followed that gave him away. You took in a breath, hands twisting nervously at your sides as you accepted what was happening for what it was. "You don't... _want_ this anymore.. us I mean," you stated reluctantly. The weight of your acceptance felt like it was crushing you, but you held yourself together. 

Murphy gaped, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to search for a response. 

"I get it, Murph," you said, as if your heart wasn't constricting into a tight ball in your chest. "Just go fucking rescue Warren. Since the two of you have such a _special bond_ or whatever fucking bullshit you were spouting." 

You wished you could be graceful and mature about what was happening, but as you looked up to meet his gaze the words seemed to flow from your mouth on their own accord. "And while you're at it, go fuck yourself, Murphy," you growled and turned on your heel, not giving him a chance to respond as you stomped away, distancing yourself from the others and away from him. He called your name, but you simply responded by lifting your hand high into the air and flipping him off, simultaneously thankful and disappointed he hadn't followed you.

After that, the others quickly learned that Murphy was a sore subject for you. Poor Doc had tried to comfort you later, tried telling you Murphy would come around, that he would realize what he was missing, but you cut him off with a grim, " Doc, I love you and I know you're trying to be a good friend right now.. but if you say his name again, I'll fucking kill you." 

He must have made quick work of warning the others, because that was the last time anyone had spoken his name in your presence. There had been a few times Doc would nearly slip up before simply referring to Murphy as the red guy. It wasn't until you all had finally reached your destination that you had felt something other than the lingering sting of your heartbreak. 

George St. Claire's presence had enraptured you immediately. She was strong, kind, and passionate about what she believed in. Passionate about building a government, about building a world that wasn't spiraling into chaos. Perhaps the fact that you yourself felt like you were spiraling was the reason you had felt so drawn to her so quickly. You needed something steady to hold onto... and the fact that she was devastatingly hot may have had something to do with it as well. 

She had been the first to follow behind you and make sure you were ok after Murphy and Warren had walked through the gates of Altura. You had said brief hello to Warren, avoiding Murphy's gaze altogether as George was called to break the tension stirring once Murphy was ordered to report to the lab for testing. You hated that you felt bad for him, that the nagging urge to speak up for him ate away at you with each passing moment.

Instead, you took the opportunity to jet away from situation as quickly as your feet would carry you when Warren and George realized they knew each other. You didn't bother sticking around to find out how, despite your curiosity. You needed space from the infuriating red ass-hat standing nearby. It was too soon, your emotions still too raw to pretend like his presence didn't affect you. 

It had surprised you when George called after you. "You good?" She asked once she caught up with you, her soft hazel eyes holding nothing but genuine concern as she reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. 

"Fucking peachy," you scoffed, wincing internally at the harsh clip of your voice. "I'm sorry. You're trying to be nice, and I'm being a bitch." 

"Don't worry about it," George shrugged. You ignored the flutter in your stomach as she flashed you a smile. "I'm here, though, if you ever do want to talk about it." 

"Why are you even being nice to me? You don't even know me." You weren't used to strangers going out of their way to be kind. A lesson you had learned quickly when the world turned to shit was to be wary of strangers. 

"We can change that, you know. How about you let me buy you a drink?" she asked, and quickly added as she observed your hesitation, "As friends of course." 

"Aren't you busy with the voting stuff?" You were unable to fight back the small smile forming on your face, despite your sour mood. 

"I've still got an hour or two."

You took in a breath, pretending to contemplate your answer for a moment. "Please tell me there's vodka somewhere in this place." 

One drink had turned into two, and the words flowed between you effortlessly. You both told each other stories about life before. George told you more about her dreams for Newmerica, and you had hung on every word. 

The conversation was cut short, however, when George had to break up a fight between a talker and a human. She had offered to walk you to the polls, though, and somehow before you could reach your destination- you had ended back first into a wall as George St. Claire's mouth covered your own. Despite the heat kindling between you two, she was gentle, her fingers softly trailing along your side as she broke away to allow you each a moment to breathe. 

"You're sure this is ok?" She asked. Was it ok? It hadn't even been a week since you and Murphy split. You were still heartbroken. George was so careful to make sure you weren't uncomfortable, and it made you feel guilty for using her to make yourself feel better. 

"This is great, I mean like fantastic, but..," you slipped out from between her and the wall, "It's just Murphy.. ah.. it's complicated. 

"So you guys are together?" 

"Not anymore.. but I'm still processing it, ya know? I just don't want to take advantage of you just because I'm hurt, and honestly I don't know how long it's going take for me to not be hurt anymore." 

"I get it," George replied. "Something tells me you're worth waiting for though," she grinned. "Come on then, let's go vote." 

Despite your unwillingness, your thoughts drifted to Murpy as you and the others waited to hear the results. You worried about him, longed to see him and touch him, despite how badly you wanted to hate his fucking guts. You wanted to find him and force him to at least tell you _why_. Was it something you had done? Or said? Or... 

It was the crowd chanting George's name that pulled you from your inner turmoil. She looked so nervous that you grabbed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile, "You're gonna do great." 

Your gazes must lingered a moment too long, because as she turned to enter the room, the others of your group all shot you questioning looks. "Mind your fucking business," you grumbled, despite the stupid grin on your face as you watched her walk away. Nothing could have prepared any of you for the destruction that followed as George turned to speak to you all again. An explosion threw you all backwards, George's body hurtling forward and practically landing right on top of yours. Smoke and screams filled the air as people scrambled to safety, others crying out as they lay wounded. 

Everything seemed to blur together for you after that, your body working on autopilot as you helped the wounded and took out what zombies you could. Even when Warren and George returned from the lab in search of Dante, and Warren informed you that Murphy had fled, you could hardly linger on the sting you felt at her words. Of course he took off, of course he had no trouble leaving you without a single concern for your safety. He was Murphy after all, you thought to yourself. It wasn't until a couple of days later, after the attack on Pacifica, that you allowed yourself to feel much of anything. That was your apocalyptic super power after all, being able to shut it all down and simply survive when needed. 

\--------

Upon arrival at Limbo, Murphy hadn't spotted you trailing behind the others at first, too engrossed in his own self satisfaction. It wasn't until he beamed at the others, with a man and woman on each arm that he even noticed your deadpan gaze. "It's not like a wild sex orgy every night.. That's what Tues-," his mouth closed immediately as his gaze landed on you. 

"I'll be drinking if anyone needs me," you informed the others with a sigh. You felt too many things at once, and as much as you hated to admit it, knowing Murphy was sleeping with other people hurt. You were fucking _jealous_ , and you didn't do jealous. You knew Murphy, knew that he wasn't the settling down type. Not that settling down was really a thing anymore. He had never made any promises to you for that matter, but his actions had convinced you that he was all in like you were. You slid onto a barstool with a huff, mumbling to the bartender to give you whatever would get you drunk the fastest. 

You barely even noticed George approach and sit on an empty stool next to yours sometime later as you stared straight ahead, trying to compartmentalize the slew of emotions raging inside of you. "Hey," she said softly, stopping the agitated tapping of your fingers against the bar by gently placing her hand over yours. You glanced over at her, giving her your best attempt at an apologetic smile. "You look like you could use some company."

"You don't have to do.. this. All this bullshit with Murphy- I don't want to drag you down with me," you huffed. 

"You love him," George stated. You gaped at her, eyes widening.

"I- _do not_ \- that's just..," you stuttered. George tilted her head to the side with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Fuck if I know why, though," you finally sigh. "I know you and I have kind of- whatever this is. _God_ , I wish I could have met you first."

George brought her hand to your face, fingertips brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Yea, me too," she responded with a smile that didn't quiet reach her eyes. "It's just bad timing is all."

"Maybe one day-," you began, but a strong hand grabbing ahold of your arm on the opposite side startled you. You swung around toward the owner of said hand, but a red hand shot out and stopped your fist mid-swing.

"We need to talk," Murphy practically growled as he shot George a withering glare.

"Fuck off, Murphy. Do everyone a favor and go choke to death on one of you go-go dancers' nipple tassels," you spat before taking a sip of the strong liquor in front of you.

When he made no attempt to release your arm, George spoke up. "She said to leave her alone," she spoke calmly, like she always did when diffusing the tension in a room. 

"Can it, party pooper," Murphy said, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Don't fucking talk to her that way," you scolded him, which only deepened his scowl. Finally you sighed in defeat, yanking your arm out of his grasp. "I'll be fine, George, really," you said, glancing over at her. She didn't look quite convinced, but with a slight nod and a reassurance that she would be nearby if you needed her, she walked away.

You stood up, glaring at Murphy as you finish off your drink in one large gulp. "You have five minutes," you told him and allowed him to lead you away from the crowd. "And while we're at it... What _the fuck_ are you wearing?"

**Author's Note:**

> The smut will be posted next chapter! Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
